


Children of Midsummer

by Hyrulehearts1123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family Fluff, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychic Sam Winchester, Slow To Update, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25979395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123
Summary: It had been a normal Court. Accepting offerings, answering prayers, and granting boons in exchange for sacrifices. And then the hunter walked in.With three new children to take care of, and his family seeming to appear at every corner, Gabriel, who had hidden for so long as Loki, is in for an interesting time.This story is a rewrite of my series Midsummer's Children.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 63





	1. The Midsummer Court

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Midsummer Night's Wish](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410480) by [Hyrulehearts1123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! It's been a while!
> 
> So, as I mentioned in my final update to Season's Sorrows, I was working on rewriting all of Midsummer's Children, and getting it to a quality I could be more proud of. Well, this is that rewrite!
> 
> For those of you who read the original, and want to read this, but are worried that it'll follow the same story, fear not! This will have a different plotline, and will be a completely new story, using the same basic elements of the original.
> 
> For new readers, who want more, feel free to check out the original series! Just be warned that it's riddled with errors, plotholes, and mistakes, though it will also help to give you a general idea of the series, and help point to what may come in the future, though I can't promise that everything will follow the same path. Regardless, the first part of the original series is linked above, as the fic that inspired this one.
> 
> I plan on trying to update at least once a month, though I can make no promises, as I have multiple active projects, as well as a full time job, so go easy on me if I miss an update or two.
> 
> With all that being said, I hope you enjoy, and feel free to drop a comment below, as I will be responding to as many as I can <3

###  Chapter 1 - The Midsummer Court

Since the dawning of humanity, there were few things that had ever truly changed. Sure, things like technology had come up, making life easier for the humans, and they kept finding new and inventive ways to inebriate themselves, but there were still several absolutes that remained at the center of all humanity, cornerstones that they had built themselves upon.

First, was the notion that family was sacred, no matter what form it took. Second, which was tied to the first, one was to care for and protect the young and the elderly. The third, and almost most important, was that one was to honor and respect the gods. For even the weakest god was far stronger than the strongest human, and would not hesitate to make the difference known, should they be angered.

Those cornerstones had led to several things. From establishments to ensure the safety and protection of the vulnerable, to systems in place to remove the mistreated from dangerous situations, there were plenty of protections for humans. However, there were still those who would slip through the cracks, or needed help that no other human could provide.

And that was what this night was for.

  
  


* * *

Loki sat atop his throne, lounging atop it as if he did not hold any within his Court to any level of regard. It was a well practiced act, one that he had long since perfected, that placed him in an immediate position of power above the humans that were milling around the great hall where he had called his worshipers to.

He grinned, showing far too many teeth for most to be comfortable, but he didn’t care. He  _ loved _ Court days.

On the days of power, wherein the innate magic upon the earth was at its strongest, he, and others like him, were able to draw upon that magic, and bring their followers to their halls, to hold Court, granting boons and accepting sacrifices to store up power for the coming year.

The Court had officially opened at sundown, but he would not begin to accept offerings, or grant boons until midnight, as was tradition. It would allow more time for followers to answer the call, to put affairs in order, and find their way to his hall, as well as giving more than enough opportunity for those who had never come before to follow the call deep within them, so that they may find that which they desire. Not that he granted every request for every person that entered his Court, as even he did not have enough strength to do such a thing, and if he did, he still wouldn’t do it.

For he was at the core of his being, a trickster. He was delighted to grant or deny wishes on a whim, to play with the words used to beg for favors, granting them in ways that one would never quite expect, and to grant people exactly what they needed in order to receive the punishment that they deserved. After all, people were more than happy to hang themselves, if you only gave them enough rope.

It was nearing the midnight hour when he could feel that proverbial rope start to unravel, as three figures walked into his hall. No, not three, he realized as he looked closer at the group. There were four.

A father, and his three sons, the youngest of which was being carried by the oldest, who was also clutching the hand of the other tightly as he glanced around the hall warily, as if fearing that the boy would be snatched away at any moment. 

The tolling of a bell in the far off distance kept him from dwelling upon the figures for long though, as the supplicants began to form into the mostly orderly lines from which he would call them forth.

His Court was now open, and it was time for him to get to work. 

* * *

It wasn't often that Fenrir found himself amidst his father's Court, but there was something vastly different about this night, something that had drawn him to the formality of an established Court, instead of his usual run through the forests of the world to meet with those who still gave offerings to him.

He stayed away from the dais upon which the throne sat, not waiting to cause his father to worry over his presence, instead choosing to walk among the mortals, listening to their words as they rehearsed their petitions, offering his own words of advice on occasion. He did not stay in one place too long, not wishing to influence the outcomes of the evening beyond what his words had already done.

It was in the shifting between groups of supplicants that he saw them, though they tried to hide away from the rest. Three children, one of which barely old enough to be away from their mother, and the other two clutching tightly to one another.

As the children shifted, hiding themselves further behind a pillar, Fenrir found himself frowning. It wasn't  _ unheard of  _ that a petitioner would bring the child they were making a request for, but it certainly wasn't common either. After all, the first petitions weren't heard until the stroke of midnight, which was far past most children's bedtimes, and it was far easier for most to simply entrust them to the care of an older sibling or family member than it was to convince an overtired child to behave in a strange place, surrounded by strangers. 

Fenrir was almost immediately concerned for the children. Even if their parent was asking for a boon on behalf of one of them, there was no reason for them all to be here, unless it was an attempt at a pity play? Here, look at my cute kids, now give me what I want! It certainly wasn't the worst attempt he'd seen at gaining the favor of his father, even if it  _ was  _ a little heavy on the emotional manipulation.

And honestly, if it was presented well enough, it might just work. After all, it wasn't a secret that his father had a soft spot that was a mile long when it came to children. It kinda came with the territory of being a protector of children.

But the crowd shifted again, and Fenrir lost sight of them.

He worked on moving through the shuffling masses once more, avoiding bumping into or knocking over mortals with a skill that only came through centuries of experience, as he made his way across the hall towards where he had seen the children.

It was unlikely that they would change their position, as being backed against one of the several pillars that flanked the walls was one of the better hiding places that the hall had to offer. Experience had shown him that, when he had been a child. Sneaking into Courts that he’d had no right to be in, playing with his siblings, even hiding from those who would try to take them away from their father, the pillars had been crucial in all of it.

As he drew near to where the children were, he swore under his breath, ducking behind another pillar. There was a man next to the children, looming over them in a way that was threatening, even to Fenrir, who hadn’t been a small child in several hundreds of years. He could still remember what it was like though, to have someone you didn’t know and trust to glare down upon you.

He was debating how best to approach the situation, when he heard the man speak.

“You had better keep that brat in line, or it’ll be your ass that’s in trouble, do you hear me?” The words were full of rage, and it was clear that whoever was talking didn’t particularly care for the kids in any way.

But it was the reply that froze Fenrir to his core, as he heard a quiet, “Yes, Dad,” from one of the children.

Big, mean, and scary was their father? Well, that wouldn’t do at all. Loki didn’t take kindly to those who threatened or scared children, especially not in his hall. While Fenrir didn’t exactly want his father to know that he was there, (which was silly, but ultimately unimportant), he may just have to reveal himself, for the sake of the children’s safety.

Mean and Scary was already on the move though, stalking through the crowd as he pushed his way closer to the front, as if that would get him seen faster. Small blessings, Fenrir supposed, as he left the spot where he had been hiding, walking forward until he was in front of the children.

He knelt down, staying a safe distance away so that he wouldn’t make them feel crowded, and made himself comfortable. His night had already gone from a typical evening filled with a little rebellion, to one where he was on the hunt, with the sole goal in mind being that of the safety and comfort of the children.

He waited a moment, for the children to notice him, and come to the realization that he wasn’t about to try and hurt them, before he moved to quietly introduce himself. “My name is Fenrir. What are your names?”

They were silent for quite some time, save for some babbling on behalf of the youngest, but he’d been expecting it. After all, he was a stranger, in a strange place, who had approached them after they had been threatened. He would have been shocked if they had actually been willing to talk to him right off the bat, and not hesitated.

Eventually though, his patience paid off, and the oldest answered. “I’m Dean,” he started, before gesturing towards the others in turn as he continued. “This is Sammy, and Adam.”

Fenrir smiled, careful to not his overly sharp teeth show, as he nodded towards the boys. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean, Sammy, Adam. Now, I’ve got a question for you, if you’re willing to answer it.”

Dean and Sammy looked at each other, hesitance written clearly on both their faces, but Fenrir was more than willing to wait them out. It had worked with his younger siblings, the children that his father had fostered, and even the occasional encounter with a nervous individual in the forests that he often ran through upon earth.

As expected, it didn’t take too long before Dean looked back at him, nodding slightly.

Having been given permission, Fenrir started the process of gathering information. “Would I be correct in assuming that you three are siblings?”

Dean frowned softly, looking at him with suspicion. “How’d you know?”

“I have a few siblings myself, and I’m rather skilled at recognizing it in people.” Fenrir replied, watching as Dean slowly seemed to relax, as Sammy leaned further into him. Wanting to continue helping the boys feel as comfortable as possible, he continued. “My younger brother would burrow into my side the same way Sammy is with you, and I used to hold my younger sister to my chest when she would sleep, like you are with Adam.”

Dean looked like he wanted to say something, maybe ask another question of his own, when he was interrupted by the sound of rumbling stomachs, and the faces of the boys gained a dusting of pink, before Adam’s face scrunched up, like he was getting ready to cry.

Mind racing to try and find a way to keep the situation from devolving, Fenrir glanced around the hall, catching sight of one of the nearby tables, a large variety of foods spread across it. Turning back to the boys, Fenrir spoke softly, hoping that his nerves would not show in his voice, or on his face. “Why don’t we get you boys some food, and you can tell me a bit about yourselves?”

He watched as Dean and Sammy glanced at each other, seemingly holding a conversation without needing to speak, before Dean nodded.

Realizing that it was as good of an agreement as he was going to get, Fenrir nodded as well, holding a hand out towards the boys. “Alright, let’s get you something to snack on.”

* * *

  
  


As the first hour of official Court time came to an end, Loki was satisfied.

He’d already been offered several recipes for various pastries, passed down through generations, a budding weaver’s first tapestry in exchange for several rare manuscripts on techniques used in the ancient world, and an impressive life like sketch of him that had been done that night, the only request in exchange for it being continued favor for the artist’s family.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a nice, relaxing Court, where he could simply sit back, and take offerings from his worshipers, and grant favors that he’d been giving unto generations of worshipers for centuries.

Well, except for one John Winchester.

Everything would have been perfect, if it weren’t for that one, pesky mortal. Hunters were a difficult bunch on a good day, but from what he had heard, from witches, creatures, and even other hunters, there were no good days with Winchester. He saw only black and white, human and non-human, and anything that wasn’t human was to be killed.

While Loki would be the first to admit that each group had it’s bad apples, and that the extreme of a group typically did not accurately display the thoughts and opinions of the group as a whole, among hunters, there were usually more extremists than ones who saw the shades of gray. And if one were to list out all of the extremists amongst hunters, the name John Winchester would be near to the top of the list.

It was almost impressive, the things that he had heard about the man. He had only entered the realm of hunting four years ago, yet he had already taken on several of the most notoriously difficult hunts, by himself no less, and surviving each encounter as if he had gone in with a whole elite task force at his side, and not alone.

But there were other rumors that had followed the man as well, ones that weren’t so praising.

Whispers that he dragged his young sons away from their mother, that he left them alone in shady motels, with few clothes, and less food, and wouldn’t come back for days, sometimes weeks at a time. First, it was only two, but then the rumors had shifted, and a third son had been added, though not without there being whispers that the infant wasn’t even John’s son, but the child of a victim of a creature, the child of something he had hunted, or any number of other tall tales.

He was hesitant to give the hunter a chance to petition him for something, but there was still lingering concern over the children who he had brought in with him.

In Loki’s mind, it didn’t matter how they came to be with him, whether they were his children by birth and parentage, or if he had taken them in after something had happened to their mothers. What mattered was their safety and wellbeing, both immediately, and in the long term. He could feel Fenrir, as his son worked to help the boys feel comfortable and safe enough to open up about themselves and their lives.

Satisfied that the children were in a safe, comfortable area, and that they would quickly be getting food, he turned his attention back towards the crowd before his dais. John Winchester was close to the front, clearly wanting to be chosen as the next one to make his offering for his favor, but Loki was more inclined to make the man wait.

The longer he forced him to wait, the longer he would give Fenrir to try and find out more about the children, and ensure that they were safe. As it was, they seemed small, not that he really knew any of their ages, beyond that they had been dragged around for the last four years, so the older two children had to be at least that old, but the age of the youngest was a complete mystery. Loki could only hope that Fenrir was able to find out what was going on, and help him figure out what  _ really _ needed to happen this night, not just what people thought needed to happen.

And so, he called forth one of his followers, a woman who had been coming to his hall for over ten years. She had admitted by her third year that she had been coming not for any want or desire for a boon, but simply to make offerings to her god, to show a reverence and honor that she could not achieve most other days of the year. It was something that he could deeply respect and appreciate, especially as the majority of people who came to his hall were only there to ask for something.

She approached him gladly, kneeling as she set down the bag that she always brought with her, taking out a cloth and laying it flat on the dais, before pulling out her offerings.

“I offer these gifts up to you, Loki,” She whispered, head bowed in reverence.

Loki smiled, standing from his throne to kneel before her, placing a hand atop her head. “I accept your offerings, and thank you for your continued devotion.” He reached his power towards her, blessing her for the coming year, before waving a hand over the gifts, transporting them to his home.

After a moment, he moved back slightly, grinning at the woman before him, wanting a moment to speak with her, as he often did with his followers. “How is your little one?”

She raised her head, a wide smile growing on her face. “He’s turning three next month, and has insisted on having a snake themed party.”

“He has?” Loki found his grin shifting, turning into something infinitely softer as he wiggled his fingers, magic weaving through his hands as he twisted it into a long, winding recreation of a green snake. “You may just find yourself with an additional visitor for the party, as long as my son is not overly busy.” He held out the snake with a wink.

She smiled, reaching out and taking the snake, nodding her head in thanks. “I’m certain that he would love that.”

Loki would have loved to sit and speak with her for longer, but there were still a great many petitions to hear, and so he gave a final benediction, before sending her back to her home, and her son.

He returned to his throne, sitting atop it once more. He was getting ready to call up another, when he caught sight of Fenrir walking towards him. His son was holding a small child in his arms, as they clung to his leather jacket, head pillowed atop Fenrir's shoulder.

Loki found himself smiling, standing once more to meet his son. "And who is this little one?"

Fenrir had a soft smile on his face, as he swayed from side to side, gently patting the child's back. "This pup's name is Adam, and he's here with his older brothers, Dean and Sam."

That seemed to add up to what the rumors managed to communicate about the children. He'd heard different variations as to the names of the children, but they had always started with a D and an S.

Satisfied that they were likely the same children from the rumors, Loki reached out, softly caressing the child’s cheek with careful fingers. “Hello, Adam,” he murmured, watching in awe as the boy yawned, before looking at him with adorable blue eyes. After a moment, Loki tore his eyes away from Adam, instead facing his son. “What have you learned from the older children?”

Fenrir sighed. “Not much, admittedly. Sam doesn’t seem to talk much, if at all, and Dean has no idea what is happening, or why they’re here. They both are eating as if they haven’t seen a full meal in weeks, if not months, and half expect the food to be taken away at any moment.”

Though he had suspected such things, Loki’s heart sank further and further with every work that Fenrir was saying. There was a vast difference between suspicion and confirmation, and it was that difference that was causing the god such stress.

How many times had he heard from countless sources that they suspected that whatever children were in John Winchester’s custody, they were being mistreated? How long had it been since the first rumors, when he could have potentially prevented anything from happening to them?

He couldn’t allow himself to sit and contemplate the endless “What if?”, as there was no way to change the past. There was, however, a way to change the present.

“See if you can find any further proof of mistreatment. I highly doubt that this is a one-off situation, or simply the result of hard times.” Loki paused for a moment, glancing at where the other two children were still sitting. The older of the children was scanning the room, occasionally looking over to where Loki and Fenrir were standing, as if to ensure that they weren’t attempting to take off with Adam. “The way he’s scanning, that’s a learned behavior. You don’t see that in a kid, unless they’ve chronically been in less than ideal situations.”

He watched as Fenrir took a moment to observe the same behavior, face darkening. “You’re right. I’ll see what I can find, and make the oldest the usual offer.”

Loki nodded. “I’ll try to keep the dad on the ropes for a little longer, so you can get confirmation. Try to make it fast though, I can probably only fit one, maybe two more in.”

He watched as Fenrir nodded, before moving to return to the children. After making sure that he wouldn’t be followed, Loki turned back to his throne, sitting atop it with an air of seriousness that he rarely displayed.

He hated it when his Court turned this way. There was little else he hated more than when there were mistreated children who found themselves to him, and he fully intended to make the one responsible pay for what he had done.

* * *

Dean liked Fenrir. He had gotten him and Sammy food, found something for Adam, and even took the baby so that Dean could eat. All the while, he was telling them funny stories, which had been really nice.

But Fenrir had walked away, taking Adam with him. He’d said that he’d be right back, that he just wanted to talk with his dad, even pointing out who he was going to be talking to, but Dean was still nervous.

He was looking around the room, trying to make sure that Fenrir wasn’t trying to steal Adam, that John wasn’t going to see them, and decide that they didn’t deserve the food they had been given, when he felt a familiar sensation fill his mind.

He’d been scared, the first time that it had happened, but then again, they both had been. Dean, because he suddenly hadn’t been alone in his own mind anymore, and Sam, because he had found his mind linked with his brother’s.

_ “Calm down, he’s over there, by the big chair.” _

The quiet, almost whisper of thoughts that weren’t his own was comforting, like a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer. It was something that he’d grown used to, over the two years since the first time when they’d discovered that they were able to communicate the way they did.

“Do you know what’s going on?” He whispered, even as he helped Sam put more of the salad he was reaching for on his plate.

_ “Don’t know, I can’t feel them, or hear anything.” _

Sam’s words only made him feel more nervous, but he shoved it away. He couldn’t afford to panic, not when Adam wasn’t with him, not when they were still in a place they didn’t know, not when John was still close.

He looked around the room again, feeling weirdly better when he saw that Fenrir was coming back, Adam still in his arms. “Alright, pups. Are you two getting enough to eat?” He asked, and Dean nodded.

They’d never seen so much food in one place, except on tv. It was way more than enough for them, even though they both were eating a lot more than usual. Sam was chiming in with a,  _ “It’s really good!” _ , which Dean relayed carefully, not wanting to let anyone else know about their connection.

Fenrir was nodding. “That’s good. I bet you usually don’t see this much food all at once, right?”

“Not really,” Dean mumbled, taking a bite of the bread he’d been munching on, hoping that the questions wouldn’t keep going on before John found out about it. They were supposed to be staying in the corner where he left them, not talking to anyone, and essentially not taking food from people who deserved it more.

But Fenrir was asking another question. “So where do you three live? I can’t quite pin down your accent, but I’m willing to bet that you’re from somewhere in North America.”

He was confused, not really knowing why Fenrir was asking, but after he finished his bite, he was answering. “Sammy and I were born in Kansas, but I don’t remember where Adam was born.” Fenrir was nodding then, as if he had suddenly explained every question he’d ever had, which made no sense.

Sam was pulling on his sleeve then, pointing to the bread that he was still holding onto, as he whispered again.  _ “He’s asking a lot.” _

Dean nodded, as he tore the bread in half, handing it to his brother. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was glad that Sam had noticed it too.

Fenrir was quiet for a while, as Dean and Sam continued eating, but Dean had a feeling that another question would be coming soon anyway.

Sure enough, not long after their plates had emptied, and Sam started leaning against him, Dean heard Fenrir clear his throat.

“Look, I really don’t want to have to ask this, but I need to make sure that everything is ok.” He started, looking honestly upset, though Dean didn’t know why. Well, until he started talking again. “There’s a handful of things I’ve noticed tonight, that make me more than a little concerned for you three. So, I need to ask you. Are you  _ really _ doing alright? Or are you just saying that you are, so you don’t get in trouble with someone?”

Dean froze, and he could feel Sam stiffen too. Had he figured it out somehow? Had they not been careful enough?

But Fenrir was talking again. “Look, I get it. You’re in a bad spot. Things are tough, but you can handle it, right?”

Dean glanced at Sam, not sure how to react.  _ “I guess we can try to answer, it’s not like he can really make us do anything.” _ Sam pointed out, and Dean hesitantly agreed.

“It’s fine,” he eventually whispered, not looking at Fenrir. “Me and Sam are fine, and we can take care of Adam just fine too.”

“That might be true, but what about Adam?” Fenrir asked, and Dean looked up at him sharply.

“What about Adam?” He was starting to freak out, not knowing what to do, or what was going on, as Fenrir continued.

“Doesn’t Adam deserve something better? Don’t you and Sam? You all deserve to be more than just ‘fine’, for there to be more than enough food on the table, and for you all to have better fitting clothes than what you have.”

Dean looked down at his clothes then, frowning. “Our clothes are fine,” he mumbled. Sure, they didn’t quite fit, too big in some places, too small in others, but everyone dealt with that, to save more money, right? But, there were still questions in the back of his mind, ones that he could feel Sam echoing.

What if Fenrir  _ had _ noticed? Was he really offering them a chance to change things?

More importantly, could they actually go through with it?

_ "You should ask," _ Sam whispered, glancing between Dean and the large chair at the front of the room, where John was arguing with someone.  _ "We're out of time." _

Dean groaned, pulling at his hair as he tried to think of the best way to try and fix things, only for a larger hand to grab his, gently prying his fingers away. “No need for that, pup. You found yourself in a bad situation, and did the best you could with what you had available. But there’s something that’s important for you both to know, if you’ll listen to it.”

Sniffling softly, Dean looked up towards Fenrir, sight blurred with tears he wouldn’t let fall, as the man continued, in a voice softer than any he’d heard in years. “Just because you’ve been ok this long, doesn’t mean it’s actually ok. You both deserve to have a safe, stable home, with clothes that fit properly, plenty of food whenever you want it, and without needing to constantly move around, worried about what dangers tomorrow might bring with it.”

He wanted to believe it. He wanted to,  _ so bad _ , but before he could sit and consider it, there were several loud shouts from where the big chair was, and a sharp stab of terror overwhelmed him.

All of the sudden, he wasn’t in a massive hall, well lit and surrounded by people, but he was in a dark, cramped motel room, a figure far taller than him looming over, hand raised to strike-

_ “Relax, you’re safe. I'll make sure of it.” _

* * *

Loki was getting annoyed and frustrated with John Winchester’s antics.

The man had been dancing around the subject of what he wanted for almost fifteen minutes, going on and on about how hard his life was, how sad and lonely things had been since his wife had died, how difficult being a single parent was, blah blah blah, and Loki was getting sick and tired of it.

He wanted to know why the fuck the human was there, why he had dragged his children away from their beds, why they looked half starved, and why they were dressed in clothes that didn’t fit in any way. He wanted to know for certain that John was responsible, so that he could pass down the justice that was deserved for it.

Sighing, he rolled his eyes, raising a hand to cut off the next ten minutes of tirade, which he couldn’t care less about. “I think everyone in the hall understands just how pathetic you have become.” He paused for a moment, just to enjoy how much the man stood there sputtering like a lunatic, but quickly continued. “Now, are you going to stop wasting my time already, and tell me what you want? Or am I just going to guess, and leave you to figure out what I left you with?”

John was raging again, but was cut off by another from the crowd around the dais chiming in. “Get on with it, or let someone else take your place! Some of us have kids at home, man!”

Loki nodded at the follower, before turning back to John. “Well?”

“Fine.” John was clearly angry, but he seemed to be taking things more seriously now, which Loki could appreciate, at least for the moment. “I want the demon who killed my wife to die.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. It was no secret, among hunters, Pagans, and even demons, that the demon who killed Mary Winchester was one with yellow eyes. Slightly more secret, was that only a small handful of demons with yellow eyes. Four of them, in fact. The Princes of Hell, if one were to be exact.

There was no way that Loki would be willing to deal with  _ that _ basket of monkeys. He wasn’t going to go within three states of any of them, if he had the option, and he certainly wasn’t going to be actively seeking one out for a stuck up, good for nothing hunter who thought himself the ultimate moral authority when it came to the supernatural.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He drawled, crossing his arms as he stared down at the hunter. “You see, we  _ nonhumans _ , we like to stay in our own lanes, and not deal in the business of others. If a demon does something, you don’t see a werewolf going to clean up the mess, or a vampire going to tell a shapeshifter to not hang out in a certain area, or a skinwalker telling a ghost to stop haunting a building. Same goes for pagans.”

He shrugged then, regarding the fuming hunter with a look of disdain. “If you asked nice enough, and offered me something good enough in exchange, I  _ might _ be convinced to give you something that could help  _ you _ do the dirty work, as that would keep me from crossing any boundaries that exist, but…” He trailed off, allowing his words to hang in the air for a moment. 

He was already considering what kind of sacrifice he would be willing to accept. It would need to be something  _ big _ , none of that silly, "tell me what I want and I'll let you live", garbage. He wouldn't take anything less than an item that would be extremely difficult, or even impossible to replace. Like the journal all hunters carried, or the picture of Mary Winchester that was sitting in his wallet. 

Those would both be fantastic offerings, though if he were to be completely honest, Loki would prefer the journal. Best to leave the picture of the mother for the children, so they could know what she looked like, and how much she loved them. 

But as he watched the human in front of him clench his fists, he had a feeling that he wasn't going to like whatever he was about to say.

“Fine, give me a weapon that would be able to kill the yellow eyed demon. In exchange, I offer up my second son.”

Loki froze. 

He hadn't been offered a human sacrifice in centuries. Not since a woman on the run from those far stronger had begged him to take her newborn twin sons, and give them a chance at life, where she would not be able to for many more days.

John was clearly not asking for the same thing. 

"Let me get this straight," he began, seething as his power began to build, charging the air, as the hall fell silent, save for the whispers of Fenrir and the children. Children who didn't deserve to be _sold_ for a fancy new weapon. "You want the demon that killed your wife to die, and you are willing to give up your child, _who_ _she died to protect,_ to whatever fate I decide, for a weapon?!"

He was shouting, voice booming around the hall, as several horrified gasps came from the others in the hall, a disgusted audience to a display of complete inhumanity that far outweighed the non-human nature of any supernatural being.

He was getting ready to say something else, to shout again, when he felt it. A small, barely there presence in the back of his mind, reaching out for him.

It was a shock. For a moment, he was reminded of the time before he came to earth, when he and his siblings had shared secret whispers among themselves. Even more so, when he heard the whispers. 

_ "Um, Loki? Can you maybe stop shouting please? You're scaring my brother, and I really need him to talk for me." _

The voice, if it could even be called that, was barely more than a whisper, without a true voice to give it identity, which was confusing, until Loki glanced around the hall. Amid the eyes staring at John with varying degrees of shock, horror, and anger, was a pair of worried hazel eyes, which made contact with his own.

It was the second of the three children that John Winchester had dragged to his Court, and the son he was trying to sacrifice. Fighting to keep his rage in check, so that the poor boy wouldn’t think that he was mad with him, Loki reached back towards him, careful to keep his voice gentle.  _ “I am sorry, Little One. I promise that I will do my best to keep from shouting in the future.” _

He watched the boy as he nodded softly, before turning back to face John, pure disgust on his face.

“It’s not like he’s even mine, not like the other two,” John was yammering on, in some twisted attempt to justify his horrendous idea of an offering. “He’s some kind of demon, intent on corrupting my sons with his evil powers!”

“And yet, it is only through the mercy of that ‘demon’ that you still live.” Loki’s voice was low, as he stared down the mortal in front of him, eyes glowing with power. “It is by his mercy, that you will be sent back to wherever it is you come from, alive and well enough to hunt me down once more. Because that boy has far more mercy than I.”

He snapped his fingers then, sending the man to whatever miserable hole he had crawled out of.

With a sigh, he sank back onto his throne, running his hands over his face. He  _ hated _ shitty parents. But there wasn’t time to sit and lament it, he needed to figure out what to do to help the boys.

“Fen, bring them up. It’s time.” He called, proud of his followers when they all backed away, attempting to give some semblance of privacy for the conversation that needed to be had.

He didn’t even know what to do for the children. It was clear that they couldn’t be returned to John, not when he was so readily willing to sacrifice his son for a fancy new toy, but where could they go?

Loki didn’t know of any others who might be willing to take them in, not without having to call in more favors than he would be comfortable with. Of course, it was always possible that  _ he _ could take them in, and provide them with food, shelter, safety, and comfort, the likes of which they had never been given, but would they be willing to accept his offer? There was only one way to find out, and it was to speak with the boys.

“Don’t worry,” Fenrir was speaking to the oldest, as he gently led them towards the throne, helping the middle child to climb the dais. “Loki will help ensure that you are safe and comfortable.”

Loki smiled then, leaving his throne to kneel in front of the boys. “Hello there, Little Ones. My name is Loki, and like Fenrir said, my job is to help you three be in a safe, and healthy environment, once you leave this Court.” He paused for a moment, before frowning slightly. “You know, I just realized, I don’t know any of your names. Do you think you can introduce yourselves?”

The oldest of the children stepped forward, clearly nervous, though he pretended not to be. “I’m Dean, these are my brothers, Sam, and Adam.”

Loki nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Dean, Sam, Adam. In case Fenrir didn’t tell you, there’s been several things we’ve both noticed tonight that have caused us to conclude that you three shouldn’t be returning to John, at least for the night. Is that something that you would be alright with?”

Dean seemed to freeze up, which Loki had expected. It was terrifying for a child to realise that their living situation was not safe, and it would take them time to come to terms with it. What he didn’t expect, however, was for Sam to nod, as the boy reached out again.

_ “John is mean,” _ the boy stated plainly, no room for doubt or hesitation in his whispers.  _ “He shouts at Dean, tries to hit me, and never leaves us enough stuff for Adam.” _

Loki nodded, making sure that Sam knew he was listening, and taking him seriously, before turning back to Dean. “It sounds like Sam agrees with me that things aren’t really all that great for you guys.” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to risk startling Dean, though by the way he looked at him, terror clear on his face, it didn’t really work.

“I’m sorry! He doesn’t mean to!” He spoke quickly, as if he was constantly needing to apologize for Sam’s rather obvious telepathic abilities. “He doesn’t do it a lot, I promise!”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Loki soothed, holding his hands out where Dean could see them easily, so that the boy would know he wasn’t about to strike him. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. I just want to talk with both of you, and that includes Sam, no matter how he’s able to communicate, alright?”

  
  


_ “He’s telling the truth, it’s ok,” _ Loki could hear the whisper, but it was fainter. Not directed towards him.

He sat there, waiting for several minutes, unmoving, while the pair shared their whispers among themselves. It wasn’t his place to know what all they were saying, nor was he going to force them to tell him. He wanted them to feel safe, and part of that would be letting them have the space to express themselves, as well as having privacy.

Eventually, the boys turned back to him, though Dean still had a look of suspicion and apprehension on his face. “Promise you won’t hurt Sammy?”

Loki allowed his smile to fall then, a serious look taking its place as he began to speak. “I swear to you, upon all the powers I hold, and the very power that makes me what I am, I will never do  _ anything _ that will cause you direct harm, nor will I knowingly let you walk into the path of danger, when my action could prevent it.” He could feel the vow resonating through him, down to his very core. There would be nothing in any world that would allow him to break his promise, not without having all his power torn away from him, and possibly even being unmade, from how deeply he could feel the resonation within him.

He had only ever sworn one other vow with such power behind it, long before the earth had even been formed. It had prevented him from doing anything back then, but he wouldn’t allow an inaction to continue to haunt him. He had made his choice, and it was time that he acted upon it.

Dean seemed to almost deflate then, as if the constant worry was the only thing that had been keeping him upright. It made sense to Loki, it was well past midnight by now, after all, and there was no way of telling when the children had last slept, or how late they typically stayed awake.

With that in mind, he reached a hand out closer towards Dean, soft smile finding its way back onto his face. “Come, you can sit, and I can give you several options as to what can happen tonight.”

Another moment passed, and Loki was starting to think that he had pushed too far, too quickly. He wouldn’t blame the children for their wariness, as it was more than well justified after everything they had likely seen and experienced.

But once more, the strength and resilience of children surprised him, as Dean slowly reached out to take his hand.

* * *

Once the children had been settled on the throne, Dean and Sam sinking into the plush cushions, Adam held between them, and a blanket wrapped around their too-small forms, Fenrir got to work.

His father would be busy for several minutes, discussing custody agreements that would more than likely eventually end with Fenrir having three new siblings, and it was only right that the others should know about it, as well as the hunt they would need to take on, and soon.

Ducking into one of the many walkways surrounding Loki’s Hall, he summoned his phone from the dimensional pocket where he kept it, and after sparing a moment to be grateful that his siblings had all embraced modern technology, sent a message to their group chat.

**MoonMoon:** _ court got interesting this year. expect new siblings _

He would have put his phone away, waiting for a response, but it seemed that his siblings were all active, for once.

**Slither in:** _ w8 rly??? _

**Thing 1:** _ We won’t be the babies anymore! _

**Thing 2:** _ New babies! _

**Doom &Gloom:** _Tell me when and where, so I can meet them._

**SlipNSlide:** _hang on guys, let the man explain before you go insane_

Fenrir smiled widely. His siblings were all too predictable. But he needed to keep things under control, so that they wouldn’t all crash the Court, scaring the children in the process.

**MoonMoon:** _ not a sure thing yet either. dad is talking with them now, but either way, we’re on the hunt _

**Doom &Gloom:** _ I take it that there is more to the story than even you know. _

**MoonMoon:** _ yeah. meet up at the usual place tomorrow morning. we gotta talk, and it would take too long to type _

They all chatted for a moment longer, largely assurances that they would all be at the meeting, and Fenrir felt that he was able to put his phone back, and return to the main hall. The announcement of what was to happen to the children would likely be coming soon, and he’d like to be there for them.

It took him barely a minute to return to the hall, weaving through the crowd that was still hesitantly waiting towards the rear, until he was back up to the front of the room. He caught Dean’s eyes for a moment, giving the boy a reassuring smile, before Loki drew his attention as he turned from the children, though he still stood in front of them. A defensive position, Fenrir recognized, having been behind the safety it provided more than a few times.

“A decision has been made, regarding the safety and wellbeing of the children.” Loki’s voice rang out through the hall, carrying his words to all within, so that all could hear. “For the time being, they will remain with me. Under no circumstances will they be returning to the custody of their father, nor will they be abandoned. Should they wish to live with someone other than me, they will have the right, and I will aid them in finding a new home.”

A chime rang out then, as the magic of a completed boon settled around them all.

  
Fenrir grinned. New siblings were  _ always _ fun, and he could feel that these pups would be more interesting than any other that had entered their family in a very long time.


	2. Family Gathering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... so much for monthly updates, am I right? In my defense, 2020 has been hitting hard in the last few months, especially at my work, and I was super busy for a good while, and October didn't really exist for a minute there.
> 
> Either way, here we are! Like I mentioned in the first chapter, this rewrite of Midsummer is sorta following roughly the same path as the original, while also taking it's own route. You couldn't really see it in the first chapter, but it should start displaying itself pretty quick from here.
> 
> At any rate, this chapter was beta'd by the always amazing sageclover61, and any leftover mistakes are probably because I was typing this on my phone at work lol.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!

Loki sat on a couch, in a room removed from the main section of his hall, trying to figure out what the hell he had just done.

He knew who these children were. Knew what his family wanted them to be, and how they were supposed to grow up. 

And he'd just thrown that plan out the window, onto the interstate, and let it be run over for a solid couple hours, before taking it out behind the woodshed to put it out of its misery.

At this point, the only thing that could make the situation any worse was if he managed to blood-adopt the kids, as a final "screw you!" to the assholes upstairs that thought using  _ children _ as pawns in their games was a good idea. And even then, he couldn’t deny that the thought was a rather attractive one, as an extra way to ensure their safety, but he couldn’t let himself rush into things. That was a decision that the boys needed to make, not him.

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He had no idea what he was doing, it had been nearly a century since he had raised children, and never ones as fragile as humans! Add to it that he could already feel the draw to protect, to claim, to make them a proper part of his family, and he could feel himself drifting further downstream, with no paddle to stop himself.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of soft, almost hesitant tapping on the door to the room. He turned, quickly catching sight of a small head of floppy brown hair, and hazel eyes.

"Hey there, kiddo. Couldn't sleep?" He asked, scooting over to give Sam room to sit next to him. Conflicted as he was over his thoughts, he wasn’t about to deny the kid comfort if he wanted it.

But Sam shook his head, as he walked up to where Loki was sitting, clambering onto it.  _ "Not sleepy," _ the whisper came, as the boy made himself comfortable in the corner, between the cushions.  _ "Dean's snoring, too. Couldn't sleep if I wanted." _

Loki laughed, a warm feeling settling into his chest as he looked at Sam. “Yeah, brothers can be like that,” he agreed, reaching for a blanket that had been hanging over the top of the couch, unfolding it as he offered it to Sam. “Good for annoying you, but also great for pranking, on occasion.”

Sam was grinning then, shoulders shaking softly with silent giggles, and Loki could feel the amusement that flooded the room, as whatever powers Sam held worked to express his emotions, where sounds and words couldn’t. After a moment, Sam seemed to collect himself, and Loki could hear the whispers that were quickly becoming familiar.  _ “Do you have any siblings?” _

Loki nodded. “More than I know what to do with,” he admitted, feeling almost nostalgic as he thought about some of the siblings he’d been closest to. It had been several centuries since he had last seen any of them, even longer since he had lived among them, and he missed them greatly. “So many, that no matter where you were, you were never alone.”

_ “That sounds nice,” _ Sam whispered, yawning softly as he snuggled into the warmth of the blanket.

“It was.”

Back then, he’d had a father who’d cared, brothers who’d been there for him, and a sibling who had always been ready to help him with whatever he needed at any moment. He missed those days, but he couldn’t allow himself to think about it for too long.

He had left all of that behind, and he needed to remember that.

With a sigh, he shook his head to clear his thoughts, so that he could better focus on Sam. The kid deserved his full attention, especially after the hectic night he’d had.

_ "We were alone a lot," _ Sam whispered, almost as if it were a confession of a sin he had committed, and not the actions of a neglectful parent that had caused it. As it was, the boy was curling into himself, in an attempt to soothe himself.

Or, Loki realized, trying his hardest to remain calm, in an attempt to make himself a smaller target. He remembered what Sam had told him, back in the Hall, that John Winchester was mean, and had tried to hit Sam in the past.

In some part of his mind, Loki wondered how many of those attempts had been successful, for Sam to instinctively make himself smaller. 

A long forgotten, deeply buried part of himself stirred at the thought, aching to wrap around the boy, and soothe his fears, until they were no more. He pushed that part down, as he had many times before. He needed to control himself, and keep from scaring Sam.

"It won't happen again," he promised, careful to keep his voice soft. "He won't ever be able to lay his hands on any of you, ever again."

Sam looked up, and Loki froze. The boy looked defeated, as if he'd been promised such a thing before, and had been lied to more times than he was able to count.  _ "He'll come for us, he  _ always  _ does."  _ There was so much certainty in Sam's words, so much  _ pain _ , Loki’s being  _ ached _ from it.

That was why, against his better judgment, he found himself moving, lifting Sam off the couch, and onto his lap, embracing the child carefully. “It’s alright,” he whispered, the rage within him being calmed slightly as Sam reached out from the blanket he was wrapped in, clutching Loki’s shirt in a hand. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,”

Sam’s small body shook with the force of his tears, and Loki held him through the onslaught, determined to show him that he truly was safe, and that he was willing to take care of him and his brothers.

* * *

It was early. The sun had not yet begun its journey across the sky, and would not for several hours still, when Fenrir entered the clearing in the forest.

A light cover of snow drifted down from the sky, each flake eager to join its brethren on the ground, gathering in piles that were already four inches high, and would continue to grow higher as the night slowly bled into daylight. It was picturesque, and would have brought a smile to Fenrir's face, if not for the reason he was here, at this early hour.

Meetings between himself and his siblings weren't rare, but as they'd all largely reached adulthood, or at least the point where they'd gained a need for independence, gatherings between them all had grown less frequent. Anymore, all of them getting together was largely reserved for special occasions; birthdays, anniversaries, or big events. 

Nothing quite came close to the acquisition of new siblings, though.

That was why, despite the early hour, Fenrir could already hear his siblings as they approached, could feel the power as they shifted forms, making their way towards what was one of the most important places on earth for them.

The snapping of a branch caused Fenrir to turn, coming face to face with his sister.

"Hel, you look magnificent," he greeted with a smile, moving to pull her into a hug.

"As do you," she smiled, pulling away from the hug to look him over. "The years have been kind since last we met."

"You say that, as if time hasn't been so kind to you, Hela!" A shout came from the other side of the clearing, as Jormungandr appeared from behind a tree, Vali and Narvi trailing behind him.

Hela continued to smile, as she moved to embrace the others. "Simply offering our older brother a compliment, nothing more," she promised, though there was the glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "You, on the other hand, will likely need a molt soon. You're gaining wrinkles, and they are most unseemly."

Fenrir laughed at his brother’s protests, turning his attention instead towards the younger pair, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Alright you two, how have you been treating Skoll and Hati? Don’t think that I didn't notice that they aren't here."

The pair groaned, trying to push Fenrir away, to little success. "We left them with Mother!" Narvi finally admitted, when it became clear that Fenrir wasn’t going anywhere. "Her cottage is snowed in, and we didn't want her getting cold!"

Fenrir sighed dramatically then, as if he were put off by the news. "Fine, I suppose they can stay…" He adjusted his hold on his brothers then, pulling them both close in a proper embrace. "How is she? I've been meaning to visit, if she's feeling up to it."

Vali sighed then, wrapping his arms around Fenrir, in a move that was mirrored by his twin. "She misses Father. We think she might be making plans to move on, and be with him."

The clearing fell silent at his words, in respect for their Father, who had passed on many years ago.

Their pasts were all difficult, and combined though their struggles had been, the twins had suffered the greatest difficulty.

"He still keeps your rooms ready," Hela whispered. "Just as he has for all of us. These new children will not change that."

"You won't be alone, if she joins Father," a different voice sooke, and they all looked up to see Sleipnir, standing off to the side.

Immediate, the twins detached themselves from Fenrir, rushing towards the welcoming arms of their eldest brother. The others looked on, sad smiles on their faces as they watched their younger siblings.

"Give them a minute, then tell us of our newest siblings," Jormungandr asked, and Fenrir nodded. 

A moment to gather their thoughts before getting to business would be good for all of them, especially as he knew that they would all be setting off on a hunt, come dawn. No one hurt one of their own and got away with it. 

* * *

  
  


As the night drew closer towards dawn, Loki had a feeling that something was wrong.

It was as if something dark, something  _ wrong _ had found its way into his home, but when, and how? 

He pulled Sam closer, not wanting to risk anything harming the boy, after he'd finally managed to get the boy to sleep, when he paused.

The strange dark had moved. It was ever so slightly closer, just like…

Just like  _ Sam  _ was.

Some sort of dark spell, to be able to track the boy, and take him back, should the attempted deal not work out in John's favor? Or, more sinister, an "if I can't have him, no one can" play?

It was confusing, concerning, and all number of other things, but Loki had dealt with such things before. With a little luck, and no small amount of skill, he'd be able to unravel the spell, and leave Sam none the worse for it.

Taking a breath to steady himself, Loki adjusted his hold on Sam, so the boy was more reclined, instead of leaning against Loki’s abdomen, and placed a hand on Sam’s chest.

"Just relax, Sam," he whispered, using the smallest amount of power to make sure that the boy would stay asleep through the attempt to remove whatever dark magic had been cast upon him. "I've got ya, you can just sleep, and it'll all be fine when you wake up, I promise."

After another deep breath, Loki pushed his power towards Sam, eyes sliding closed as he searched for the source of the darkness. 

At first, everything seemed fine. All of Sam’s energy levels seemed fine, if a little low, but that could easily be explained by his telepathic abilities, and his use of those abilities through the evening, and through the day before that. Making a mental note to make sure that Sam and Dean both took naps, to make up for staying up so late, Loki searched further. He knew that there was something there, hidden deeper, he just needed to find it.

It took some time, but he eventually found it; a small trace of darkness, likely from where the spell was leaking through whatever method was used to hide it. That spoke to it being an old spell, which was concerning, but nothing that Loki hadn’t dealt with before. He’d managed to free his fosterlings from the confinement spells that Odin had placed upon them, and he would be able to free Sam from this spell.

And so, he directed his power towards that trace, and prepared to find the best way to unravel the spell, when he paused.

The darkness was strange, almost sticky, like he was trying to reach into a pot of honey with his bare hands, but stranger still, seemed to be slippery, as if it were trying to keep from being touched and removed. Loki found himself frowning, as he examined the strange substance.

He’d seen this before, he knew he had. It wasn’t a spell, that much was for sure. This was something far darker, and not with an intent to kill, at least, not now. An attempt to control?

Loki struggled to remember what the strange substance was, where he’d seen it before, when he took another breath, freezing moments after. That scent, it was impossible. There was no reason why Sam would have ingested demon blood, and yet, here it was.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure that he would be able to free Sam of its influence.

* * *

By the time Fenrir was done telling them about what had happened at the Court, they were ready to hunt.

Regardless of if the children were to stay and be adopted into their family, or they chose to find a different home, they were all more than willing to protect them, no matter what. Vali and Narvi were particularly enraged, having shifted their forms into that of identical wolves, growling as they stalked around the clearing.

Fenrir had managed to keep them nearby, to prevent them from running off into the forest, intent on hunting down John Winchester by themselves, but it was a near thing. As it was, Jormungandr was barely able to keep himself from running back to their father’s house, and immediately wrapping around the children, to protect them from anything that would dare to look at them with any intent to hurt them.

Hela had to agree with Jormungandr, but they would need to plan their meetings with the children carefully, so as to not overwhelm them. And as Fenrir had already had the honor to meet them, and everyone else was better equipped for tracking…

“Fen,” she started, a small smile growing on her face as a plan began to unfold within her mind. “You mentioned that the children have lost their mother, correct?”

As she’d expected, Fenrir nodded, looking confused. “Yeah. Dean also mentioned Adam’s mom specifically, so he might be a half sibling, assuming that we’re not looking at a kidnapping.”

Hela nodded, knowing how to convince everyone else of her idea. “Perhaps I could go meet them, to provide solace and comfort after their loss?”

Fenrir seemed to be considering her offer, when Sleipnir frowned. “Are you just trying to find a way to make sure you’re the next one to meet them?”

With a smile, Hela raised a hand, holding it in front of her mouth as if in shock. “Are you trying to suggest I have any motives, beyond simply wishing to comfort children in need?” She shook her head then, sighing softly. “For shame, brother, to think such things of me. And I thought that you knew me better than that.”

Just when it seemed that the banter would break out into an actual argument, Jormungandr stepped in, shaking his head. “It makes sense. Fen and the twins are the best at tracking, and you and I are the best at making sure the prey doesn’t get away, but Hela is best at the aftermath, and the background work. Best to have her get close to them, and see if they know where he would run to, where he would hide, if something went wrong, instead of the rest of us flying blind, without a clue as to where to even start looking.”

Well. That certainly wasn’t what she had in mind, but she wasn’t about to contradict Jor, and possibly lose the chance to meet the boys soon, so she nodded.

Fenrir sighed. “Alright. Hela, ask Dad if it’s alright for you to visit this afternoon. Slip, Jor, I want you two to attempt to find a trace of our prey along the western coast of the United States, and work your way eastwards. Vali, Narvi and I will return to Mother’s house, so that she knows where they are going, and we will join you from there.”

After Fenrir had finished speaking, Vali and Narvi both shot off into the forest, racing towards their Mother’s home, and Sleipnir shifted form, giving Jormungandr a moment to climb onto his back, before galloping away, set towards America.

A moment passed, before Fenrir turned towards Hela, a smirk on his face. "Cutting it a bit close there, Hela. That trickery only worked because of the matter of the boys' father being in need of some proper judges."

Hela's smile fell, at the reminder of what they had gathered for. "I did not lie, when I said that they would need comfort. I may not have met them, but I can feel the echo of death that follows them, as it's scent carries on your clothing. These children have been surrounded by death, and likely do not understand it." She paused then, trying to sense further information from the scent. 

It was faint, though not due to the time between Fenrir’s exposure to the children and their meeting. No, it was an old scent, though it carried with it a strong sense of longing. With a sigh, she knew that there was a high likelihood that her conclusions were correct. “I worry that they may have been there when their mother was killed. In the same room, or very close to it.”

“And with the rumors, none of them being particularly favorable towards what could have happened to the mother…” Fenrir mused, and Hela nodded.

“Something happened, and I’m almost certain that one or both of the elder children were witness to it, even if they do not remember. And I am not going to let either of them live through guilt, wondering if they could have saved their mother.”

Her declaration still hung in the air as Hela turned, walking into the forest without hesitation. She would find her way to the home where the boys were currently staying without too much difficulty, and from there, she would do whatever was needed to ensure that they would be able to start the new part of their lives, free of guilt that was not their own.

* * *

It was official. Loki was panicking.

He’d tried everything that he could think of, but he couldn’t figure out how to get the damned demon blood out of Sam, and he was running out of time.

The sun would be rising in barely two hours, and Dean would absolutely wake up not too long after, out of a habit born from countless days being dragged across the US, and there was no way that he would be cool with his brother being kept asleep through magic while Loki poked around, trying to figure out the best way to remove something that, if he really thought about it, had likely been there since Sam was an infant. Needless to say, if he didn’t figure it out, and soon, Loki was doomed.

“Come on, Kiddo, give me something to work with here,” he mumbled, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be getting any kind of response from the sleeping boy.

There was one last thing that he could think to try, but he  _ really _ didn’t want to. He’d worked so hard, done so much to keep from being noticed by his siblings, to the point where  _ he _ barely even thought about them anymore, but here he was, considering possible revealing himself to them. And all for the sake of one child.

Well, there was also the option of just, you know,  _ leaving it there _ , but that wasn’t a good option either.

Sure, the demon blood being within Sam hadn’t done anything obviously harmful so far, but by nature of being demonic, it would corrupt anything that it touched. And Sam’s fledgling psychic abilities would be the first target in terms of corruption, if it hadn’t already started. After all, it had taken Loki nearly an hour to find and identify the demon blood within Sam, and he didn’t want to risk having missed any signs of corruption taking place within him.

It seemed like he had no other choice.

Taking a breath in an effort to stay calm, he sent off a silent prayer that he wouldn’t end up fucking up, and reached deep within himself, feeling that long buried power rise up, eager to act after so long in hibernation.

After barely a moment, and with little direction needed, the power, the  _ grace _ , moved quickly towards the darkness that was infesting Sam, and began the work of purifying it, and ensuring that no further corruption would be able to seep in.

It had been so long since he’d tapped into that power, since he’d tried to control it, that it was almost difficult to keep it from surging through Sam, as the entirety of his being demanded to claim him, to add him to the flock, but he fought against it. He was trying to keep a low profile, not send out a flashing beacon that pointed directly to where he was hiding out.

And then, something happened.

The grace noticed something, something that Loki hadn’t yet, and it  _ raced _ for it, flaring brightly, to the point where even Loki had to cover his eyes.

Well shit. So much for a low profile.

* * *

  
  


Raphael had been in their office, looking over a report of training injuries, compiling a list of suggestions as to how to change the exercises, when they’d felt it.

A bright burst of grace, from upon the earth, though all angels were meant to be in Heaven for training. But that wasn’t even the most confusing part of the strange burst.

No, it was how it seemed almost familiar, almost like-

No. It could not be possible.  _ He _ had been gone for millennia, with no sign that he was even still alive. They had searched for him, for any sign that he hadn’t been killed, hadn’t fallen, and they'd been forced to return home with empty hands, and a void within their heart.

To feel his presence, after so long, was both a relief and a heartbreak. Raphael wanted to be able to dismiss it, to believe that they were simply imagining that he still lived, but they couldn't. 

They needed to know, needed to see with their own eyes.

They left Heaven quietly, not wanting to alert either their older brother, or any of their countless younger siblings as to what was going on. There was no need to risk dragging anyone else along, no need for anyone to see the force of their emotions, regardless of what they may find.

Their wings carried them quickly, towards the place where they had felt the flare from, desperate for any kind of closure. They’d been left without answers for so long, and the thought of another day without knowing was more than they could bear.

With so many emotions running through them, they pushed themself further, urging their wings to fly further, faster, needing to see, needing to know, needing-

Their landing was less than graceful, as they all but crashed into the room, quickly taking in their surroundings. 

They were in what appeared to be a sitting room, with bookshelves filled with various books, both fictional and nonfictional. Small items that likely held more sentimental than monetary value were scattered around the room, holding places of honor on the shelves, and atop the mantle over a fireplace that currently wasn’t lit.

In the center of the room, there was a couch, with several blankets hung over the back and arms, as well as one that was wrapped around the small, sleeping form of a young child.

And holding the child…

"Gabriel? Is… is it really you?"


	3. A Glimmer of Impossibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2021!
> 
> Today, I offer you a conclusion to the cliffhanger I offered you last time. Next time? Who knows!
> 
> A little bit of a shorter chapter, but it fought me the whole way through. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you all next chapter!

###  Chapter 3 - A Glimmer of Impossibility

  
  


He stared up at his older sibling, someone who he thought that he’d never see again, mind racing as he tried to find a way out of the situation. 

No matter what he considered though, he knew that it would be pointless. He'd been found, and there was no way that he'd be able to get away again, not without having to abandon the boys that he'd only just promised to take care of.

As if to remind him, Sam shifted slightly in his arms, brow scrunching in discomfort that immediately drew all attention in the room towards him.

Immediately, his sibling was kneeling in front of where he was still sitting, their hand gently resting atop Sam's head as they searched for the source of the discomfort. "Tell me what you know," they commanded, and he was powerless against it.

"His name is Sam Winchester. To the best of my knowledge, he's four,  _ maybe _ a small five, just shy of fourty pounds." He rattled off quickly, not caring that they would be able to learn that easily enough on their own. "Nonverbal, uses some impressive psychic abilities to communicate. He and his brothers were brought to me, and I took them in."

They looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "We  _ will _ be discussing this further, Little Brother. Now, what else have you learned?"

He gulped softly, directing his siblings grace towards where he'd first felt the demon blood. "He, he has demon blood inside him," he whispered, not meeting their eyes. "I tried everything I could think of to purify it, but my grace flared up, and that's how you found me."

They nodded softly, their other hand moving to rest over Sam’s heart. "I feel it. I also feel something else there, though I can't quite identify it either at the moment. Perhaps it is the psychic ability you mentioned. Regardless, all will become clear, once the demonic influence is removed."

With that, their eyes slid closed, and he felt the familiar warmth of his sibling's grace surrounding them both.

It had been so long, he’d spent so many years alone, and he’d  _ missed _ his sibling, so badly. Seeing them now, even though he hadn’t meant to ever be discovered by them again, it was something that brought a sense of calm and comfort to his core, soothing ancient anxieties that he'd nearly forgotten were there.

"Calm yourself, Brother," they whispered, wings wrapping around him in comfort. "We'll discuss everything, and determine where we must go from here."

"Raph, I…" 

But they merely shushed him, eyes opening for a moment, a gentle smile on their face. "It'll be alright, I promise. We are not our brothers, and I am not Father. We are capable of a civil conversation, and I will not condemn you for a single decision. But first, we must ensure the safety of this child."

Something about the way Raphael phrased things made him nervous, but there was no time to question it as the light of their grace grew stronger, and Sam started to look more and more uncomfortable. He quickly reached out his own grace to soothe Sam, easing the discomfort from Raphael’s work, and easing him further into sleep.

"Wonderfully done," Raphael whispered, before once more falling silent as they worked. 

There was no true way of knowing how much time passed before Raphael finally drew back their grace, leaving behind just enough to monitor Sam’s condition as they regarded him.

"The children will remain asleep for several hours yet," they spoke quietly, disappointment clear in their voice. "You should not have let them stay awake for so long, their exhaustion is strong."

"And if you'd have listened, you'd know that it wasn't my fault, Raph. I needed to know what was going on, and the longer I made their  _ sperm donor _ wait, the more frustrated he'd get, and the more likely he'd be to let more details slip." He knew that trying to argue with them was a lost cause, but that didn’t mean that he was about to just sit and take their accusations.

A moment passed, and Raphael sighed, looking at him with mournful eyes. "So, this is where you've been? Playing at being a pagan, as if you weren't created for a greater purpose? As if you hadn't abandoned your family?"

"Raph, I didn't mean to-" he tried, but they were already speaking again. 

"I thought you dead!"

He froze. They’d thought that? But, surely they knew he'd been on earth, they had to have known, or at least suspected! 

"The last time anyone saw you, it was before that final battle, and the judgment that was passed." Raphael whispered, silent tears falling down their face. "I thought, we all thought, that he'd approached you, asking you to join him, and when you'd said no…"

It felt as if a blade of ice had stabbed into his core. Was that why he'd been able to stay hidden for so long? No one had bothered searching for him, because they thought he was dead?

Not knowing what else to do, he surged forward, his own wings coming out to embrace Raphael, pulling them close, while ensuring that Sam wouldn't be crushed as Raphael clung to him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Far above the earth, where an archangel clung to their younger brother, another archangel walked through the halls of heaven.

Michael, the First Born, Viceroy of Heaven, Commander of the Heavenly Armies, was searching for his younger sibling.

They were supposed to meet him, so they could discuss the recent rise in training accidents, and try to find a training method that wouldn’t cause so much harm to the trainees. But their meeting was supposed to have been over an hour ago, and Raphael had never arrived.

Michael hadn’t been overly concerned, as it was fairly common for his sibling to lose themself in their work, aiding those who required help, healing wounds, or even simply reading a bedtime story to a fledgling who was spending their first night away from their flock.

It wasn’t a difficulty to walk down towards where Raphael’s hospital had been built, bringing them out of the near trance like state that they ended up in when they worked. If nothing else, it gave Michael a reason to leave his own office, and have a chance to take in the condition of the host first hand. Walking among the host, showing them that he was an angel too, just like them, and not some almighty being who didn’t care. At the core of his being, he was an older brother, and he loved each of his siblings.

Even those who had gone astray.

Upon entering Raphael’s hospital, he approached one of the healers who were sitting off to the side, not tending to any patients. “Good morning, Ephraim,” he greeted, smiling at the healer. “Is Raphael busy?”

Ephraim startled, before turning to look at Michael, a confused look on his face. “Michael? Raphael left nearly two hours ago, we all thought they were leaving to meet with you early.”

He frowned softly, just as confused by the situation as Ephraim was. “No,” he shook his head, concern starting to build. “Our meeting was supposed to be an hour ago, not two hours. And they never came, so I thought that they were distracted with paperwork, or with a patient.”

But Ephraim shook his head. “No, they’d been in their office, and we’d helped with the paperwork the evening before last, so that wouldn’t have caught their attention. And since most training has been suspended due to the increased incidents, we’ve only seen our chronic patients, and wellness checks for those who have been injured recently in order to ensure that they’re healing properly. All of which they typically entrust us to handle, unless it is something serious."

Michael nodded, the concern growing quickly. It made no sense, where was Raphael? It was unlike them to simply vanish, especially without telling their healers where they were going. Even more so, to vanish without telling him first.

Not wanting to worry the healer more than he likely already had, Michael pushed back his worry, a strained smile taking the place of his earlier frown. "It's possible that they simply became distracted on their way to see me, and lost track of the time. I may even find them on my way back to my office."

Ephraim looked as if he wished to say something else, when a call from the other side of the hospital caught his attention. "Apologies, but I'm needed elsewhere," he apologized, but Michael waved him off.

"No, don't let me distract you from your work," he said, his smile growing more genuine as he continued. "I'm supposed to be able to lecture Raphael for getting so distracted, not have them lecture me for distracting you."

There were laughs from the other healers as Ephraim hurried off towards where he was needed, and Michael turned, making his way out of the infirmary, and heading back towards his offices near the training grounds.

Something strange was happening, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, but there was no use in trying to hunt for Raphael if they did not wish to be found. They would return home, and he would question them fully when they did.

  
  


* * *

  
  


After some time had passed, and they’d both calmed, Raphael pulled away from their brother, looking him over.

It was as if no time had passed since he’d left them behind, save for his wings being in a state of disrepair, likely due to several stressful days preventing him from proper grooming. But even after so many years, his grace was still just as warm as it had ever been, and they were relieved to find that it welcomed them readily, as it always had.

Almost as readily as the infantile grace that had surprised them.

Sighing softly, they looked at their brother, knowing that there was no easy way to have this discussion, but there was also no way to avoid it.

“Gabriel,” they started, speaking their brother’s name for the first time in near countless years, trying their hardest to discover a proper way to discuss what was needed. “You mentioned that Sam and his siblings were brought to you.”

Their brother nodded softly, looking down at the child in his arms as he smiled. “Yeah. While I’ve been here, I made some friends among the pagans, and got really close to one of them. When he passed on, he left his Court to me, along with guardianship of his children. Skip forward a bunch of years, and last night, one John Winchester, contender for Father of the Year, brought his kids to the Court, and tried to sacrifice one of his sons in exchange for the death of the demon that killed his wife.”

Raphael frowned. So far, each word that Gabriel had told them had been more concerning than the last, but there wasn’t enough time to fully consider all the implications that each of those sentences brought up. Right now, they needed to gain a better understanding of the situation.

“So, you didn’t know of them until last night?” They asked, needing clarification.

Gabriel nodded again, but this time, he looked at Raphael in confusion. “I’d heard whispers that a hunter was dragging his children around on a quest for revenge, but I’d never seen any true confirmation, until last night. Why do you ask?”

Raphael paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words, before deciding that it would be best to just explain things. “The demon blood in Sam’s system was masking something. Something that your grace recognized, and surged towards, causing the flare.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gabriel interrupted them, staring at them as if he thought that they were insane. “I figured that it was just trying to claim him as a foundling, like with the pagan fosterlings that I’d taken in.”

“That would be part of it,” Raphael acknowledged, the knowledge of that oh so important, hidden away part of Sam heavy within their mind. “Your grace wasn’t trying to claim him as a foundling though, or even a fosterling. It was trying to claim him as your  _ child _ .”

Gabriel froze then, eyes widening as he quickly looked between Raphael and Sam, as he struggled to understand what they were saying.

Taking pity upon their brother, Raphael continued. “Your grace didn’t surge towards him because of the demon blood, nor was it because it simply wished to place a protective claim upon him, as it would with any other child.”

They took a breath then, reaching with their grace, to guide Gabriel’s own grace towards what they’d discovered, feeling the shock flooding through their brother’s entire being as the realization surged through him.

“It moved to claim him,” they whispered, pulling their grace away to allow Gabriel time to comprehend what had happened. “Because he is a Nephil. A Nephil who was born of an Archangel.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Far away from Heaven and Earth, completely isolated from light, warmth, and comfort, There was a figure trapped within a cage.

He no longer knew how long he’d been trapped there, left alone in the cold darkness, from which there was no escape, save for retrieval by the one who had placed him there, and abandoned him to his fate.

But that would never happen. It hadn’t happened in the past, when he’d begged for forgiveness, for mercy, for  _ redemption _ , and it wouldn’t happen now.

And so, he found himself as he had nearly every day of the eternity he had been trapped there for: sitting in the nearest corner, arms and wings wrapped around himself, as he waited for eternity to end.

In the beginning, he had been frustrated. He’d thought himself to be right, that he’d been unjustly imprisoned, simply because they didn’t want to admit their mistakes. But as time had passed, and no one ever came, not to visit, not to free him, not even to sit and mock him in his isolation. 

He was alone. And alone he would stay.

And alone he did stay.

For an eternity or more, he sat there, hoping for anything to change from the same, dull nothingness that he’d been trapped in. Once, he’d tried to pass the time, by singing. But all too soon, he had sung every song he’d ever known, those he’d been taught, and those he’d written for the sake of his younger siblings, and by the time he’d done so three times over, nothing had changed.

Nothing ever changed.

But then, something did change.

Far away, where he could only just feel it, there was a spark of light.

It was faint, so faint that he could not tell where it came from, merely that it was from outside.

It was outside, and it should not have existed. A complete impossibility, given the circumstances that would need to be met in order for it to happen.

And yet, there it was.

A faint glimmer of light, placing within him a glimmer of hope. A hope, and a newfound purpose.

He would find a way to escape. He needed to.

He would escape, and find that small, impossible light, and he would hold it close.

He’d allowed one mistake to ruin his life for long enough. He wouldn’t allow it to do so any longer.

Not when he had something precious waiting for him.


End file.
